The Happening in the Holy City
by avaniheath
Summary: A body is found in a shipping container in a large port on the southeastern coast. It's up to B&B to find the truth about the victim - and themselves - along the way.
1. Serendipity

**Summary: A body is found in a shipping container in a large port on the southeastern coast. It's up to B&B to find the truth about the victim - and themselves - along the way.**

**A/N: AU. Set shortly after "The Night at the Bones Museum". Will eventually be 'M', so consider yourself warned. And if you are under legal age to be viewing said content ... keep on moving! I will not be held responsible for destroying your innocence!**

**Big thanks to **_**Jasper777 **_**for allowing me to pick at her brain on government agency travel. Also, thanks go to **_**threesquares **_**and **_**Diko **_**for helping me fix a major character faux pas early on - even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear. And a great big hug and thanks to Tracy for her beta. You ladies are amazing!  
**

**Disclaimer: If Bones were mine, B&B would've gotten together in season 2 or 3 and the show would have to be moved to HBO ;) (In other words, they aren't mine)**

The Happening in the Holy City  
Chapter 1: Serendipity

"Pizza."

"Thai?" She smirked.

"The diner?"

"I have leftover lasagna at home."

"Ooh, lasagna!" He laughed, licking his lips at the thought.

"It's vegetarian lasagna."

"Blech! Thai it is," Booth sighed, taking a long swallow of his beer as he saw Brennan smile at having won the evening's round of '_What to Eat for Dinner_'. "But I pick the restaurant."

"I find that satisfactory," she smiled as she lifted her own bottle to her lips, enjoying the taste of the cool amber liquid as she swallowed the last of her brew.

The partners had finished their latest case involving a murdered anthropologist at the Jeffersonian and Brennan, in the midst of the investigation, discovered the actual cause of death for an Egyptian mummy as well as discovered and returned a stolen priceless ruby. These events, in turn, created an opportunity for Egypt to throw a party at the museum celebrating the discoveries and the partners had pushed their post-case ritual of dinner & drinks back to the following weekend.

Booth dropped several bills on the counter while Brennan donned her coat and, after downing the last of his draft, the pair left the Founding Fathers and headed out in search of dinner.

As they climbed into Booth's SUV, the phone range, causing him to groan in frustration. "Hacker," he said in explanation before answering the call with a frown, listening as his superior began to rattle off details about a body that demanded the FBI's - and most importantly, Brennan's - attention. Booth jotted down a few quick notes on a notecard he found in the console and steered the vehicle towards Brennan's apartment so she could pack for their trip with the agreement they would meet at Ronald Reagan National later that night.

* * *

They arrived at Charleston International Airport a little over four hours later. The case - a body discovered earlier in the evening inside a shipping container at the city's busiest shipping port - had been reviewed thoroughly by Booth before he fell asleep.

The flight had not been easy. Turbulence accompanied the stormy weather which did little to comfort the small child and an obviously unhappy baby sitting relatively close by. Unaccustomed to flying in anything other than First Class, Brennan found herself in Business Class unexpectedly. Whether an airline employee was to blame or one of the clerks within the Bureau's travel agency, she wasn't sure; nonetheless she was reserved to a seat beside her partner. She brought along several papers written by her interns and decided to get a start on correcting them while Booth napped. After reading through the first three she tried to rest, but the small space was not conducive to relaxation. She felt cramped and uncomfortable. And, although she was not ready to admit it, the increasingly close proximity to Booth also made for a fitful sleep. So, reluctantly, she replaced the papers in her bag and tried to focus her mind on anything other than her partner.

Her thoughts wandered over the events of the last several days. Although they were never more than acquaintances in the two years Dr. Kaswell had been with the Jeffersonian, Brennan was still somewhat shaken by her death. And knowing her close colleague, Dr. Turnbull, was responsible for the murder was even more unnerving for her. She had appeared calm throughout the investigation and the gala, but the loss of her two associates started Brennan thinking about her own life. Her thoughts wandered over her past relationship with Sully, her new friendship with Andrew and finally settled again on Booth.

She learned early on in their partnership to avoid thoughts of him in any manner other than associates and, later, friends. After the impromptu make out session following their first case together - and the ramifications the feelings between them caused - she knew she could not think of him in a sexual manner if they were to continue working together. It had been somewhat difficult at first, to learn to compartmentalize her attraction to Booth, but over time it became second nature. She found it more difficult to override the attraction at certain times in their partnership: the undercover assignment to Las Vegas; the kiss under the mistletoe for Caroline; undercover yet again to infiltrate a circus and spending days with him in the tiny trailer they called "home"; the thirteen hour return flight from China with the teenager who killed his father's lover. Finally her thoughts settled on Booth's meatloaf story and how hurt he had seemed when he learned of her telling Andrew the treasured story. _"What's between us is ours."_ His words rang in her mind, his voice still raw with the pain she caused him. Later, when they visited the exhibit, she repeated his words back to him, telling him in a way that she realized what she had done and she was sorry for the pain she had caused.

Then there was a moment. A moment when she had been sure she would once again feel his soft lips on hers. The thought of kissing him again sparked inside her a myriad of feelings. She did not move toward him in that moment, but decided in her mind she would not move away if he moved closer towards her. He did, then, lean minutely closer and she felt her stomach flip with anticipation of what was to come. But as he moved closer still, his eyes seemingly locked on her lips, they were pulled back into reality by the sound of approaching laughter.

And as quickly as it had developed, the moment was gone. She shook her head, clearing the memory from her mind as she heard the flight attendant announce their arrival.

After exiting the plane, they quickly made their way to collect the luggage and headed to the rental counter to pick up their car. Brennan was tired and made her way outside, leaving Booth to settle the arrangements. She took a deep breath of the warm night air, noticing the slightly pungent odor emanating from the surrounding marshlands. As she stood waiting in the darkness, her mind began to wander again. She thought of Booth and how he had changed since waking from his coma a few months earlier.

They had discussed, once, his coma dream and how she had read to him the book she was writing while keeping vigil by his bed. As she wrote, she read everything aloud, hoping he could hear her and that her voice was some form of comfort to him. His mind took the characters and the story and replaced them with the people he knew, creating a new world in which for him to live. She had noticed a difference in him since his wakening and she had mentioned it to him once. He rejected the idea immediately, passing his behavior as simply feeling his way around his life again. Even Angela mentioned once to her that he seemed to be sad for the "other life". _He dreamed we were married,_ she thought. _Does he long for that life over this one? A life where he is a husband and has a wife, a family? Does he think of _us _being married?_ Despite the warm spring air, a shiver ran through her at the thought of being married. _Married to Booth,_ she thought_._ She shivered once more, unsure if it was excitement at the thought of being with Booth or her detestation of the institute of marriage that made her tremble.

"Bones? Earth to Bones?" She blinked, seeing Booth's hand waving in front of her. "I've been calling your name since I came out. Where were you?"

She shook her head back and forth trying once again to clear her thoughts the way a child clears an Etch-a-Sketch. "I'm right here, Booth. I've been standing here since you started speaking with the rental clerk."

He smiled, noticing that although she was tired, she obviously was still the same person, literal and analytical. "I know, Bones. I just meant that it seemed like your mind was somewhere else. You were thinking really hard about something." He looked down at her, meeting her eye to eye. "You okay, Bones?"

She exhaled and closed her eyes, briefly avoiding his gaze. She wasn't sure of her own feelings at the images her mind had thrown her way during the flight and was only sure that she didn't want to reveal anything. "I'm fine, Booth. Just tired. I didn't rest on the plane as well as you did," she replied. "Let's just get to the hotel so we can get some rest."

* * *

They arrived at their hotel to find the reservations for their rooms were unable to be fulfilled. Booth presented the clerk with the confirmation information provided to him from the Bureau, but an apparent glitch in the computer system showed their rooms to be double-booked and already filled by other customers, leaving the young man behind the counter apologizing profusely to the agent standing before him. Booth sighed dejectedly, rubbing his hands across his neck, hoping to relieve some of the tension that had started to settle in his back and shoulders.

"Listen, kid," he started. "I know it's not your fault that things are screwed up, okay? Just give us whatever rooms you have available." He glanced at Brennan beside him, her face a match for his own. He could see the fatigue in her eyes and he hated that she had not been able to rest on the flight down. Looking away from her partner, she nodded to the kid behind the counter indicating that she was willing to accept any lodging that was readily available.

The kid looked at the pair before him, nervously eying them both. "Um ..." He cleared his throat, obviously trying to find the words to use to deliver the bad news. "Well, sir ... Ma'am" he stumbled, glancing from the man with the gun on his side to the somewhat familiar looking woman leaning on the counter. "You see, this is a bad weekend for you folks to be in town. And, well..." he stopped, still hoping he wouldn't have to say the words he knew needed to be said. From the looks of the twosome, he knew the news would not be well received.

"Just spit it out, kid!" Booth boomed, his voice growing louder and more forceful, a tone Brennan knew he rarely used outside the interrogation room.

"Booth," Brennan called quietly, her hand coming to rest on his arm in a silent plea for him to calm down. "What's wrong?" She turned to the young man again, seeing the fear across his features at the sound of Booth's displeasure.

"Well, ma'am," he started again, his accent growing thicker as he cleared his throat, his eyes darting between the pair and down to the computer in front of him. "Unfortunately, we don't have any rooms available right now." He glanced quickly at Booth, then back at Brennan, wanting more to deal with her than the man beside her.

"Okay." Sensing the man's apprehension with Booth, Brennan took control, moving closer to the counter, placing herself between the boy and Booth. She could feel the tension rolling off her partner in waves, the lateness of the hour and the events of the day finally catching up with him. "Can you please direct us to another establishment that does have an open availability?"

She saw the kid's face pale slightly before he lowered his gaze again to the computer screen. She heard Booth shuffle his feet against the dingy carpet, a sign that his calm was truly about to end. She steadied her own sights on the kid in front of her, silently begging him to direct them to another establishment as soon as possible so they could both relax and get some sleep.

"Well, ma'am, that's going to be hard to do," he said finally, lifting his eyes but not meeting her gaze. "You see, this weekend is really special because we have a big race here in town and lots of festivals going on and stuff." He looked up at her again, his eyes pleading with her to understand what he was trying to tell her. Her brow wrinkled as she processed what he said.

"You don't mean ..." _A city as large as this one can't possibly ..._

"Yes, ma'am. Probably every room in the city is booked for the weekend." At the man's confirmation of her worst thought, she heard Booth exit the lobby of the hotel, the door slamming closed behind him with a loud _bang_!

* * *

___What?! No rooms?! Anywhere?! Not possible! (Except that it is!) So now they are in a strange city, late at night, with a dead body awaiting them_ ... _and they have nowhere to sleep. What else can go wrong?! You know you want to know_ ... _and I want to tell you. So please take a moment to comment and let me know what you think. Comments make me strong!_

_**Story Facts: The annual race the clerk mentioned is the Cooper River Bridge Run and it occurs the first weekend in April in Charleston, SC each year. (If you follow me on Twitter, then you know I am a loyal participant of this event.) The same weekend generally holds the Family Circle Cup (tennis), along with the Flower Festival and the Cajun Festival in the nearby cities Summerville and Johns Island, respectively. So, yes - it **_**is** _**possible to have a large city with zero available hotel rooms! ;)**_


	2. A Silver Lining

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who took time to review, share, and follow. This story has been over a year in the making and I'm excited to finally be able to share it! I hope it doesn't let any of you down!**

**Shoutout to **_**notjustpartners**_**! She was the "winner" of somethingorother on Twitter that I said or did or created - I really have no idea now what it was. So her prize is contained here within. Enjoy it doll! And a big thank you to Tracy again for her insight and words. :)  
**

**Disclaimer: If Bones were mine, B&B would've gotten together in season 2 or 3 and the show would have to be moved to HBO ;) (In other words, they aren't mine)**

The Happening in the Holy City

Chapter 2: A Silver Lining

Exhausted, hungry, and in dire need of a warm shower and a comfortable mattress, Brennan pulled out her phone and dialed the familiar number of her publicist. She didn't approve of using her celebrity to gain favors, but Booth had told her once that there were some times when it was okay to do so, even expected. _And if ever there was a time to use my supposed celebrity status, this is it,_ she thought.

She waited as the line rang, impatiently toeing a small pile of sand on the asphalt. "Ashleigh? It's Temperance," she said when the young publicist finally answered the phone. "Booth and I are in Charleston, South Carolina on a case and there is a problem with our lodging accommodations."

"What sort of problem, Temperance?" the publicist asked around a yawn. It was nearly midnight and, although Temperance Brennan was the most noted author she represented, Ashleigh wanted nothing more than to turn back over and go back to sleep, back to the dream she had been enjoying prior to the phone pulling her from her slumber.

"Something happened to our reservation. The room was double-booked and because of several social events occurring this week in and around the city, the hotel does not have any rooms available." She relayed the information, her annoyance at the situation growing as the words slipped from her lips. "I need for you to find us lodgings for as long as we're here on this case. We need -"

"Yes, Temperance, I understand. You need a place for you and Agent Booth while you're investigating your case. I know what you like when you travel, Temperance, and I can take care of it. I'll be in touch," she said quickly, knowing the author would most likely launch into a diatribe on specifics if she didn't disconnect the call. She liked Temperance overall, but experience had taught her that the anthropologist was very rigid when it came to details, a trait that often annoyed the free-spirited publicist.

After disconnecting the call, Brennan went in search of Booth. She found him standing at the edge of the parking lot, pacing back and forth along the broken sidewalk that lined the street in front of the hotel. She could see the tension built up in his shoulders, his head hanging low as he watched the pavement as he moved.

_No rooms. In the entire city. This is not happening! This _can't _be happening!_ Booth's mind was reeling with the knowledge that there were no available rooms. He hadn't heard the clerk use those exact words, but Booth was smart enough to understand what the kid was trying to say. _Because of a stupid race and some stupid festivals, Bones and I don't have a place to sleep? Damn it!_ He knew it wasn't the kid's fault, but after a long case, a long week of paperwork, and the flight down, he had grown angrier with each word he heard in the southern drawl of the kid behind the dingy hotel counter. _Every room in the city is booked. _The words echoed in his mind, repeating as a sadistic mantra to his already waning patience.

_He's got to be exaggerating, right? I mean, this is a big place. There are hundreds of hotels around here. That's thousands of rooms, right? _He argued with himself as he continued to pace the sidewalk, pausing occasionally to kick a tuft of grass sprouting through the concrete or kick at a loose stone. _There's open rooms somewhere. We'll find them. We_ have _to find them!_

She stood by the car, fingering the cell phone in her pocket. Booth had been upset by the turn of events, but it occurred to her as he traipsed back and forth that he had lost his temper rather quickly with the young man inside the hotel. _Quicker than normal_, she thought. _Is something bothering him?_ Her mind wandered through the events of the past week, trying to figure what had caused his shortened patience.

He had seemed fine following the Anok case. They had finished the paperwork together, as usual, and had enjoyed dinner together at the diner. The week had been calm after that, as far as she knew, until their meeting at the Founding Fathers for drinks. _He was fine then as well_. _Actually, he was acting in a normal manner until we arrived here. _As she ran through the events following the phone call in the bar, she came to the conclusion that Booth was simply tired and in need of a bed.

She moved in his direction when Angela's words from the week before rang loud in her ear: _Booth wishes you were going out with him_. The words stopped her immediately. She had heard Angela when she said the words, of course, and had quickly changed the subject, not wanting to have any conversation with Angela regarding Booth, dating, and/or sex. She had done such a good job ignoring Angela that she had nearly forgotten the conversation had even happened.

"_How could you not tell me you were on a date when I texted you?" Angela asked suspiciously._

_Brennan sighed. "It was just drinks." _

_Angela eyes her disapprovingly. "Celibate. Seeking crumbs. Spill." _

_She sighed, not wanting to have this conversation with Angela. Especially now, with a possible break in the case staring them down. "He's Booth's boss's boss. His name is Andrew."_

_Angela shook her head, confused. "Wait. This is his boss's boss? Was Booth upset?"_

"_Yes. I don't know why."_

_Angela looked at her in disbelief. She couldn't believe she was having to explain this to her dear friend. "Brennan, this could screw up the natural order of things. And Booth wishes you were going out with him." _

_Brennan eyed Angela for a moment, somewhat shocked at the words she'd just heard. "I drink with him all the time, but with Andrew there's potential for sex," she responded matter-of-factly._

_Angela rolled her head to the side, eyeing Brennan as if she had just sprouted three heads. "And not with Booth?" she questioned credulously._

_She knew Angela was right, but she had learned long ago to bury those thoughts and feelings and they were still feeling each other out following his surgery. She considered Angela's question momentarily but knew now was not the best time to venture down that road. She changed the subject back to the case._

She stared at Booth, running through the conversation with Angela once more. Had Angela mentioned something to Booth? _No_, she thought. _Angela wouldn't do that. But it must be something, right?_ _Did I say something to upset him? No, that wouldn't be it. He would tell me if I did. Did I do something? I told Andrew about the egg, but I apologized at the gala. _And that's when it hit her.

_Booth wishes you were going out with him ... potential for sex ... not with Booth? _Angela's voice invaded her psyche once again. _Oh_, she thought, her eyes growing wide at the thought. _Is Angela right? Is Booth upset because I'm seeing Andrew and not him? _

She didn't have long to ponder this new realization as she was shaken from her thoughts by the ringing of her phone. She answered, listening as Ashleigh began to rattle off the information regarding the hotel situation. Brennan dropped her head, both relieved and agitated at the information she was receiving. She had found a room - _the only room I could find, Temperance _- and had booked the reservation for the partners. She read the directions to Brennan before assuring her she would both email and text it to her as well. Brennan thanked her and hung up, a little more unsettled than before.

She finally made her way to Booth, whose darkened form was outlined by a single yellow street light.

"Booth?" she called his name as she approached, not wanting to sneak up on him. He turned, his face a mix of fatigue and annoyance. She stopped short at seeing his features. _He's worried about something. He's definitely worried about something._

"What is it, Bones?" he asked, his voice quiet and drained of emotion and fight.

"Ashleigh found a room for us," she started, hoping the news would alleviate some of the agitation he was feeling.

"Good. Let's go then." He made his way across the lot, his long legs carrying him quickly towards their waiting vehicle. She followed him, slipping into the car quickly before giving him the rest of the news. "Where are we headed now, Bones?" he asked as he started the car.

"Downtown." Her answer was quick. As they merged onto the interstate, she read him the directions Ashleigh had sent over earlier. As they made their way downtown, he noticed the traffic was much heavier than he had anticipated it being at midnight. _Maybe the kid was actually right about this?_

As he exited the interstate, slowing to a dead stop in the bumper-to-bumper traffic, Brennan decided now was the time to give him the last of the information. She glanced over at him, noting how his arms were tense as he gripped the steering wheel, the veins of his forearms raised against the skin in tension. She secretly enjoyed his arms, especially when tense and strained. But she didn't enjoy what she was about to do: make him even more rigid and tense, and not in the way she appreciated.

"Booth," she started, noting that he didn't look her way when she said his name. "Booth, I need to tell you something else about the reservation Ashleigh made for us." She waited, expecting him to show some sort of interest in what she had said.

He remained still, focused on the bumper of the car in front of them. He wasn't trying to ignore her, but it was obvious something was wearing on him and she wondered if her presence was causing or adding to his irritation. It was unusual, yes; he usually enjoyed her company, especially on out-of-town cases. But since the reservation fiasco with the kid, he had displayed an uneasiness that caused her concern.

"Booth? Did you hear me?" she questioned again, beginning to really worry about him.

"Yeah, Bones, I did. Sorry. I'm just thinking about the case," he lied. "What else did she say about the reservation?" He kept his eyes straight ahead, not chancing a look in her direction.

"Well," she started, clearing her throat. "Ashleigh found an availability at the Lodge Alley Inn downtown, as you already know. It's a rather high-priced hotel, which I know you hate, but it was all that Ashleigh could find with an availability. I will be more than happy to bear the expense for the room for as long as we are here, since I know the Bureau does not allow you but a slim expense for your lodgings while you're out of town on a case. And although I have no limit on my expense account with the Jeffersonian, I would not feel right about submitting such a high hotel bill to Cam just because of a mistake that was made with our original reservation."

"Bones!" He called her name, stopping her rant. _What is she so nervous about? _he thought. "Just spit it out, Bones." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noting how she was turning her dolphin ring in a way that she only did when extremely nervous. "What did Ashleigh say?"

"She tried, Booth. She really tried to find somewhere for us to stay, but ..." She hesitated. "The Lodge Alley Inn only had one room available. And it's the only room she could find available in or near the city. She searched everywhere, Booth, but she said there was nothing else available." She let go of the breath she'd been holding, daring a glance at his still silent form behind the steering wheel.

_Damn it! _He cursed silently as he gripped the wheel tighter, now even more worried about what this case would bring for them.

* * *

_Yay! They have a room! But only one ... and they have to share! This could present a problem for our duo (oh, but what a problem to have!) especially now that Brennan is thinking about what Angela told her! Plus the almost-kiss at the Egyptian Gala - what was that?! And exactly what is wrong with Booth? You know you want to know! And I want to tell you! So please take a moment to let me know what you're thinking about this piece. Your reviews fuel me to continue!_

_**Story Facts: The Lodge Alley Inn is a Victorian style inn that was at one time a collection of 18th century warehouses located in the middle of peninsular Charleston and one of my personal favorite places to stay! Because of the pricing, it's unlikely any government worker would ever stay there for business purposes; Brennan probably would, however, if not somewhere nicer. So I'm going with it. This **_**IS **_**my creation after all! **_**;)**


	3. Close Quarters

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your kind words and comments! You have no idea how much I cherish each review, tweet, and message. :) There's so much more to come and I hope you'll all stick with me through the process!  
**

**As always, much thanks to _some1tookmyname_ for her lovely input. It was well worth the wait! ;)  
**

**Disclaimer: If Bones were mine, B&B would've gotten together in season 2 or 3 and the show would have to be moved to HBO ;) (In other words, they aren't mine)**

* * *

The Happening in the Holy City  
3: Close Quarters

After sitting in stopped traffic and traveling a mere four miles in forty-five minutes, the pair arrived at the hotel, greeted by a friendly valet who quickly unloaded the luggage and guided them into the lobby. Although Booth was bothered by the attention the valet showered over them, he accepted the help and followed Brennan inside. Larry, the front desk clerk, greeted the weary travelers.

"How may I help you this fine evening, folks?" He smiled at the man and woman standing before him, seeing the obvious fatigue in their posture. Brennan stepped forward to the reservation desk as Booth made his way into the sitting room off to the right. He stood in the small area, lit only by a dim, flickering fireplace, glancing around at the cozy setting.

"I'm Doctor Temperance Brennan. I have a reservation," she replied quietly as she pulled the necessary identification from her wallet. She watched him as he stood in the parlor. She noticed the way the glow of the fireplace created a silhouette of his body. Her eyes traveled up the length of his legs, appreciating the way his dark jeans hung low on his hips, the material clinging to the muscles underneath. Her gaze continued higher as she watched his back twitch as he rolled his shoulders back and forth, trying to ease the stress he had been battling since their arrival. She knew beneath his dark gray t-shirt laid a strong, straight form, especially as he stood with his shoulders squared, his hands resting just inside the pockets of his jeans.

Larry smiled as he entered the necessary information into his computer, watching the way the familiar woman viewed her companion. He gave the room number to the attendant so he could go ahead of the couple. He cleared his throat to redirect her attention once he finished, explaining the hotel's various policies and charges. He directed her to sign where necessary, noticing the repeated glances to the man escaping the corner of her eye. He could feel the tension between them; unsure whether to chalk it up to a lover's spat on the drive in or the exhaustion he saw etched on the face in front of him.

He took the keys to their car, calling for the nearest valet as he gave Brennan a copy of the paperwork and the key cards to their room. "We offer complimentary sherry and fresh-baked cookies throughout the day in the drawing room in case you are interested," he gestured as he came around the desk. "We also offer room service courtesy of the four-star restaurant located next door. If you need your vehicle, just dial '1' on the handset in your room for the valet and we will have it available for you when you're ready. If there is anything further that you may require, please do not hesitate to let us know. The concierge is available twenty-four seven for your convenience."

Brennan thanked him as Booth joined her at the desk, finally snapping from the trance he had been in. As he had walked up, he heard the words _drawing room, four-star, valet, _and _concierge_, each causing him to wince internally. _How much is this place anyway? I am _not _looking forward to filling out the expense report on this one!_ He followed Brennan to the elevator, giving the slight man a small smile as he passed. The idea of having to share a room with her in such a swanky hotel was not, in itself, a bad idea. _But sharing a room with Bones is going to be very, very difficult_, he thought as they waited for the elevator's arrival. _Don't get me wrong, rooming with Bones is something I've wanted for a while now. But I would've thought the circumstances would be very different to say the least. How can she be cool with this? Shouldn't she be more upset? More worried? I mean, it's just the two of us! And with where we've been lately - why isn't she more worried? _

His inner voice continued its rant as they rode in silence, his hands stuffed deeply into his pockets. He snuck a glance at her once, wondering how even after the long day and the awful overhead lighting she still managed to radiate poise and beauty. _God! If she weren't _so _beautiful ..._ He sighed as the doors slid open, depositing them on the top floor of the venue. He barely noticed the beautiful architecture of the building as they made their way through the meandering hallways to their room. _Maybe she's not worried about us sharing a room because she doesn't feel anything for me in that way. _

He paused for a moment, the idea a seemingly new one. _But she does!_ His subconscious rebounded. _Remember the Egypt thing at the Jeffersonian last week? Remember when you wanted to kiss her? She was _definitely _going to kiss you back, man! _He shook his head at the thought, unsure which part of his brain to listen to. The voices volleyed back and forth in his mind, one part of convinced she did feel something for him - _you're not _just _partners!_ - while the other half ventured into explanations as to why she reacted to him as she had when they were involved in somewhat "less-than-partnerly" situations.

_Maybe I don't really love her. Maybe I'm still just thinking about that crazy coma dream and I just think that I love her but I really don't. _The war within him stopped at that thought, just as they arrived at the room. The porter met them outside and waited for Brennan to unlock the door, allowing them access to the suite. He followed them into the room, encouraging the couple to explore the suite and to let him know if there was anything lacking and he would be more than happy to take care of whatever they needed. He guided their bags to the designated sleeping area, moving about to settle the bags and prepare the room.

Brennan walked through the suite, eying the decor. The room was small, two walls proudly displaying the handmade bricks of the original structure, just as it had been for the last two hundred years. Antique oil paintings hung with care in various positions around the room, offering a very warm and inviting atmosphere to whoever called the space "home", even if for a short time. The original oak floorboards creaked with each of their steps as they rounded the corner from the entryway and living room to the kitchen and dining areas. Three large floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto the street below and to the harbor in the distance. An old, iron spiral staircase stood proudly outside the kitchen, inviting whoever dared to climb its aged steps.

The bedchamber was found at the top of the stairs, with the bed and en suite situated in a spacious loft above the common areas. The area came complete with a king sized bed, two end tables, and a dresser, topped with a flat screen TV and a DVD player, as well as a laminated listing of the DVDs available for ones viewing pleasure courtesy of the Concierge. Booth climbed the staircase after closing and locking the door behind the attendant – first bestowing upon him Brennan's gracious tip, of course – his body growing more and more nervous with each step at the thought of sharing such close quarters with his partner for however long it took for them to close the case.

_Maybe I should offer to give her back the money for the tip?_ He thought as hi climbed the stairs. _After all, she's paying for the room – I should offer to pay half of that, too, I guess – and even though I know she's loaded it's not right. We're partners and we should split everything 50-50.  
_

He found her there, her suitcase open on the luggage rack as she methodically unpacked her things. He stood leaning against the small support wall, watching her move about as if she had always lived there. Seeing her move around fluidly, the thoughts of money left his mind. He wondered briefly if she was always this comfortable when they were away on a case. _How can she be so comfortable? I mean, I'm freaking out at just _thinking _about being in this little room with her for God knows how long! But her? Look at her! She's so calm! _The war raged on once again as he watched her place her toiletry bag in the bathroom, hang her clothes in the closet, open and close drawers and generally make herself at home.

She knew he was watching her and she tried to act as if his staring didn't bother her. She had learned throughout her lifetime to ignore the stares and whispers of the people she interacted with on a day-to-day basis. With Booth, however, she had found it quite challenging to ignore almost anything he did. Especially when she found herself involved in some way. _And lately_, she mused, _it seems I'm involved quite often. Very often, actually. Ever since his release from the hospital, since I returned from Guatemala, he watches me - even if I'm not doing anything of importance._ She paused a moment, looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. _Just like he's doing now. I'm merely unpacking my suitcase and he's concentrating on me as if I'm teaching him how to disarticulate a skeleton!_

At first she had simply surmised it was nothing more than a side effect from the surgery, such as him trying to place certain memories or trying to remember the routine of their work. _But then Angela mentioned the coma dream he had about us being married that night we all went out for drinks to celebrate Mr. Nigel-Murray's birthday. He started watching me more after that it seems. I know he was just listening to me read to him as I wrote my book. I know he just substituted himself, me, and our friends for the characters I was reading about. It didn't mean anything. _She caught her reflection again in the glass as the last thought crossed her mind.

_Maybe it did mean something?_ The inner voice countered. _What if it did mean something? What if he _wants _to be in a long term monogamous relationship with you?_

_What? That's ridiculous! S_he fought against herself. _He doesn't want to be with me! His romantic partner history clearly shows that he prefers lighter hair and typical Aryan features over_ -

_Just stop, Brennan! Stop making excuses! You _know _he wants to be with you! You're just scared! _She stopped her movements, taking a moment to consider the words that had just run through her mind. While it was true that she and Booth had been sexually attracted to one another since meeting at American University, since the kiss behind the pool hall nothing more had transpired between them. _A few shared glances here and there over the years and the almost kiss last week, but that's it. Other than his coma dream, there is no evidence that he would like to pursue a sexual relationship with me. There is no evidence!_

She shook the thoughts from her head as she finished setting up her toiletries, being sure to leave room for his own shaving necessities. She exited the dressing area to find him finished with his own unpacking, his suitcase placed in the top of the closet next to her own. He grabbed his shaving bag, passing her to place it in the bathroom beside her makeup and hair products. He glanced at the counter, surprised at how well their personal items meshed together in the small space. _Almost like they were supposed to fit together, _he thought.

_Don't go there buddy! Not right now! _He let out a sigh as he walked back into the sleeping area, seeing her gathering her pajamas.

"Um, uh .. Bones?" he started shyly, his eyes suddenly focused on a knot in the wood floor. "You can have the bed. I'll just grab a pillow and sleep on the couch downstairs." He moved to grab a pillow from the bed when she placed her hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Booth, no. I will not allow you to sleep on the couch. It would not be good for your back. If you slept down there you probably wouldn't be able to even walk tomorrow." She looked at him as a scolding mother looks at a child who knows better. He met her eyes, seeing the genuine concern for his health staring back at him. "Besides, it's not even a whole couch. It's a loveseat. A small couch. You wouldn't fit."

He looked at her again, the fingers of his other hand scratching at the small hairs on the back of his neck as he rubbed his hand back and forth. One corner of her mouth was curved upward in the cute half-smile that she sometimes did that always drove him crazy with desire. He smiled back at her.

"Okay, then, Bones. What do you suggest? The bed?" Her smile faded at the drop of his voice on the last two words. She was still staring at his eyes, watching them darken momentarily. She pulled her hand from his arm, suddenly feeling that touching him would create a spark or fire between them that they wouldn't be able to extinguish.

"Yes, Booth. Of course," she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She backed away, walking towards the bathroom to change into her pajamas. "It's a king-sized bed. It's more than large enough to accommodate us both." He heard her shut the door, muffling her last words. He quickly stripped from his jeans, toeing off his shoes before pulling on the old sweatpants he normally slept in. He kicked the shoes against the far wall next to the dresser and laid down on top of the hotel's bedspread. He knew from staying in various hotel rooms that the bedspread was one of the worst things you could lay on, but he didn't want to assume that sharing a bed meant being under the covers with her.

_Get over yourself, man!_ The voice popped up again._ You're being such a chicken. Of course sharing a bed means being under the covers with her. Do you really think she would make you sleep on top of the blankets? _He fluffed the pillows behind his head, grabbing the remote to turn on the TV. _No! She wouldn't do that! Just suck it up and be a man already! _He sighed as he rolled his neck from side to side, still trying to loosen his muscles. He knew it wouldn't help, especially since he body was now humming with an entirely different type of tension.

"Would you like for me to massage your neck and shoulders for you, Booth? I've noticed you trying to release the pressure in your back from the flight. I thought perhaps I could help." Her voice startled him, causing him to sit up. He cleared his throat as he took in the sight of her standing on the other side of the bed. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt so long it nearly covered the shorts. "Um .." he cleared his throat again, glancing quickly at the TV. "No, no. I'm fine, Bones. Thanks, though." He pointed at the television with the remote. "Any preference?"

"No. I don't own a television, remember?" She pulled the side of the covers down, slipping between the cool sheets. He watched her settle herself, turning on her side away from him. "Just please don't leave it on all night. Studies show that sleeping with the dim light of a television actually interrupts REM cycles and sleeping patterns, causing you to wake feeling less refreshed and can actually aid in depression."

He laughed to himself at her request, setting the sleep timer to its maximum time. _In case I forget and fall asleep_, he thought as he watched her snuggle deeper into the pillow, the blankets falling around her waist. He changed channels, finally settling on an old black and white movie he remembered watching with Pops once when he was little. He laid back on the pillow, his arms propped behind his head. He watched the movie, glancing at her figure beneath the sheets from time to time. It amazed him sometimes, to know how strong she was physically, emotionally, and mentally. Yet, to see her lying here beside him, he was reminded at how fragile she really was. He fought against the urge to move closer to her and place an arm around her. _An alpha male display of protection_ he thought, the words encased in her voice.

After a while, he curled on his side, facing away from her. He barely heard the TV shut itself off as he drifted into sleep, thoughts of Brennan drifting through his dreams.

* * *

_**Story Fact: Larry truly is the BEST valet at The Lodge Alley Inn and has been my pal ever since I began visiting. So I decided to promote him to clerk. This **_**is**_** my creation, so *sticks out tongue*!**_

_As always, thank you for reading! Please share your thoughts below, even if they are completely irrelevant to the story! And in a chance to appeal to your pitying/nurturing/caring side, I'm feeling quite poorly and under the weather at the moment, so you're thoughts will be even more well received at this time than at any other! ;)  
_

_In case I don't get to say it again - Happy holidays and wishes for an amazing 2013! I appreciate all your support this year!  
_


	4. Running From Truth

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for taking the time to read, review, comment, etc. I'm honored you all are enjoying this story! **

**A big thank you to _dharmamonkey_ for schooling me on the inner workings of Seeley Booth - again! Someday I'll get it - maybe. And, as always, thank you to _LadyBards_ and _Some1tookmyname_ for your input and help! I don't know what I would do without you ladies!  
**

**Disclaimer: If Bones were mine, B&B would've gotten together in season 2 or 3 and the show would have to be moved to HBO ;) (In other words, they aren't mine)**

* * *

The Happening in the Holy City  
Chapter 4: Running From Truth

Booth woke to thin slivers of orange sunlight streaming through the open blinds. His first thought was that it was too early to be awake if the sun wasn't fully up yet, especially considering how late it must have been when he finally fell asleep. His second thought was on the warm body that seemed to be tucked closely beside him and the arm that was protectively clutching the body. He slowly opened one eye, not wanting to yet face the day, but both intrigued and confused by the position he found himself in. As he took in the sight before him - Brennan curled in sleep, her back tucked against his chest, his arm around her waist with her fingers resting atop his - he couldn't help but take a few moments and enjoy the feeling of her in his arms, especially the way she seemed to mold perfectly against him as if they were two halves of the same whole.

_Whoa boy! Don't go there right now! Those thoughts are trouble and you know it! In case you haven't noticed, a certain part of her body is pressing against a very specific part of your body. Thinking about her all soft and warm is just going to get you into some hot water! So stop it now! If she wakes up and sees this … Well, you're gonna be in a whole mess of trouble for sure!_ He pulled his hips back, not wanting to disturb her sleep or make known his unconscious reaction to her close proximity. He disentangled his arm from hers as he slid from the bed, opting for a morning run to clear his mind and ease the tension he still felt in his chest. He contemplated taking a shower and using the time to clear his head, but the thought of taking care of the situation with his partner merely a few feet away made his stomach turn. _A run it is_, he thought.

He slipped quietly into the bathroom, quickly changing into his running clothes and leaving their room. He made his way down the street, mentally noting the address in case he needed help finding his way back. He took off down the sidewalk, heading towards what he assumed would be the end of the peninsula. Several people of various ages passed him, heading in the opposite direction, reminding him of the "big race" the clerk had mentioned the night before. They eyed him curiously, dressed in his own running gear, yet heading away from the apparent rendezvous point.

He continued to pass various restaurants, shops and boutiques, their windows still darkened in the early morning hours. He remembered their arrival the night before: the throngs of people moving up and down the narrow sidewalks, pausing in their journey to take notice of the various wares hidden inside the centuries old buildings that lined the street. He stopped on the corner, waiting for a street sweeper to make its way through the intersection. The driver lifted his hand in a wave and Booth nodded in return. He looked in the window of the shop to his left, noticing a small silver ring that sat on a velvet-covered hand mannequin that made him think of his partner. It was antique in design, silver with a turquoise stone on a raised setting. The stone was marred in color, a copper brown mingled with the brilliant blue-green. He wasn't exactly sure what drew his attention; the ring itself being rather plain and easily overlooked yet it held a dazzling rare gem that had become devalued over time by the general populace due to cheap fakes and copies that were readily available.

_Just like Bones_, his brain chimed in. _An intelligent, beautiful woman who looks to some people to just be an average woman; but really who chooses to hide down in the basement boneroom reading people's bones because she's so good at it and who knows all these weird things about different cultures since Adam met Eve. And I know she avoids the real world because she has trouble reading people and because she doesn't understand the pop culture stuff, but she is still the best partner I've ever worked with and the best friend I've ever had. Nobody else could ever measure up to her!_ He set off down the road with his thoughts still on Brennan, making his way to the point of the city, stopping on the broken stones of the sea wall to watch the sun continue its rise. He sat on a bench in the nearby park, resting, his mind trying to make sense of what his heart had been feeling for the last several months.

He had been fighting an internal battle since the evening he woke in the hospital to find her seated in front of him. He knew who she was in an instant, of course; he also knew she was dressed and acting differently than he remembered. Her entire demeanor was different, yet somehow still the same. He couldn't help the puzzled expression that came with her rising to meet him, the question of _Who are you?_ slipping from his lips. The distraught look that crossed her features spoke volumes. In an instant, he knew his words scared her. But his mind was still foggy on why Bren was dressed like Bones and why Bones would hold vigil by his bedside when it should have been Bren there instead.

The first few weeks had been the hardest for him. He knew she had accepted Dr. Daniels's offer to head the dig in Guatemala. But with his surgery, the mild amnesia and confusion he suffered post-op, he had nearly expected her to stay. However, with his doctors certain he would make a full recovery in a short amount of time, she had gone, leaving him to his therapy alone, a promise to return in six weeks, regardless of whether the dig was extended or not. He'd returned home a week after he woke from his coma, unable to return to work until he had completed both his physical and mental evaluations. At first he sat in his apartment, watching tv and movies, cleaning, rearranging - anything to keep his mind preoccupied. With it being the middle of summer, he spent more time with Parker, enjoying father-son football games in the park and dinners together at the diner. But at night, there was no distraction, nothing he could do to stop the dreams from coming. Dreams so real that when woke, he wasn't sure if he was actually awake or asleep.

_They walked hand in hand through Rock Creek Park, the warm Spring sunshine playing hide-and-seek with the clouds. They paused for a moment on a small bridge crossing the creek. He kissed her temple, whispering a soft "I love you" in her ear, causing her smile to grow. Her hand rested on her round belly, his own coming to rest atop hers. They enjoyed the quiet time together before continuing their way through the park. The three of them, a family._

Every time he woke to an empty bed and an even emptier apartment, his heart sank. It hurt to wake up knowing it wouldn't be, couldn't be real. He started going to the gym again, spending time at the shooting range, anything to keep his mind off of his partner and the "other life" he had created with her. The dreams waned after a few days, no longer plaguing him every night. But just as he thought the dreams were gone, they returned again, bombarding him with images of what his life could be.

_She sat in the rocking chair, the small lamp on the nearby table illuminating the room in a heavenly glow. He stood in the doorway, watching her rock their daughter slowly back and forth, her voice singing the child softly to sleep. He could barely see her eyes fight to stay open, her hand curved around the soft swell of his wife's breast as she nursed. The two of them, together, were the physical picture of his happiness. She raised her eyes to meet his, a brilliant smile on her face. She was happy. And he made her happy. Therefore, he way happy. He lifted the infant from her arms, placing her gently in the cherry crib adorned with a small collection of stuffed animals. They stood together, embracing one another, admiring the life their love had created._

His heart would ache with loss as his eyes opened, the room still dark. It was always early, but he knew he wouldn't sleep again. He would run the scene over and over in his mind, his chest growing tighter with each rewind until, finally, it was too much and the tears flowed freely down his cheeks. It was rare that he cried - _That's just something real men don't do!_ his father taught him - but he figured the loss of his "family" was reason enough to allow it.

The days passed until finally he was able to return to work. Once Sweets had cleared him that morning, he'd waited all day in her office, knowing she was due to return from her trip that day. He desperately wanted to see her again. He missed her, more than usual. And, he hoped, perhaps seeing her again, as _Dr. Temperance Brennan_, he would finally, once and for all, be able to remove Bren from his dreams.

He'd spoken once to his therapist about her - _Thank God it wasn't Sweets!_ - and she had agreed that his feelings for his partner ran deeper than just those of an associate and friend._ Perhaps the reason you substituted her for you wife in your dreams is because she is, quite literally, the woman of your dreams_. Her words had hit him like a ton of bricks. Naturally he knew his feelings for her were stronger than his feelings for his other friends, even some of his past girlfriends. But she was his partner. Partnerships developed bonds and a closeness between two individuals that reached beyond words like "love" and "care". It was a bond that was hard to describe unless otherwise experienced. And until now, that was simply how he saw her. She was his partner. That was all. But since his surgery, that all changed.

_"You're worried you lost something. You didn't lose anything. You gained something."_ A part of him knew she was right, but there was another part that was still afraid to admit it.

So he had met Cam for a drink and, being the good friend that she was, she knew before he spoke the issue he was battling. _"You're in love with Doctor Brennan."_ A fact, a statement. Not a question. She knew. But did he?_ "Am I the same guy?"_ What if the surgery had changed him somehow? What if she didn't feel the way about him that he felt about her? The questions that haunted him for six weeks all came rushing back in an instant.

_"If you break that shell and change your mind, she'll die of loneliness before she'll trust anyone again."_ He'd known it was true; it was the one thing that scared him most: hurting her, losing her and their friendship.

Cam's words replayed in his mind as he enjoyed the salt air blowing in with the tide. He had faith they could build a life together as Partners and he was willing to give it all he had. But could she? Her past was abandonment and loneliness; could she overcome the insecurity he knew lied within her for a chance at happiness?

_"If you change your mind, she'll die of loneliness before she'll trust again."_

_Wait ... what?_ He straightened a bit as Cam's words flowed through his mind again. _Was she trying to tell me that Bones feels the same way?_ He repeated the words again, and a second time, analyzing what Cam had said to him that night so many months ago._ She sounded so sure that I would be able to crack the shell Bones put up around her heart. Does she know something I don't? Could Bones love me?_

He thought back over the past few years of their partnership. All the times she was there for him, fighting to rescue him from the Gravedigger, the nights they spent talking through things that bothered him. His words repeated back to him,_ "What's between us is ours"_. The look on her face when she realized she had disappointed him. Her concern for him. For his back. Even last night, sharing the bed with him in order to ensure he was comfortable and rested. Their first case, tequila. Why did she leave that night?_ Could it have been because she did care, not because she didn't? She wrote her book by my bedside. And she read it to me. She never does that! And she knows about my dream ... She's smart. She knows what I saw in my dream - she wrote it! Why would she read it to me? Why did she share it? Maybe that's why things are weird right now. Because she knows! We need to talk about this. I need to talk to her about this. I can't wait any longer. I know she knows. And I think, maybe, she feels the same way? Even if she doesn't, I love her and I need to let her know. Seize the day, right? We're here. Now. If she doesn't agree, then I can move past it. But I have to know. I have to know!_

Feeling lighter in his heart already, he stood with sigh. He continued a path along the water, eventually turning back towards the city. He wound his way along various streets, watching as the residents began their day; people passed him carrying chairs, snacks, and drinks, obviously heading somewhere along the race route to cheer on the competitors. Despite the stares of the people moving about and ignoring the burn in his chest, he stopped only once to ask a merchant opening his store for a direct route back to the hotel.

He rounded the corner, looking up at the face of the building he knew held her inside. Like a castle holding a princess, he smiled to himself. _Except Bones would never let anybody lock her up somewhere against her will! And she probably wouldn't appreciate being compared to a princess, either!_ He entered the lobby, responding to the smiling blonde behind the counter with a smile of his own. She didn't know him and had no reason to think his bright smile was anything but for her, but he knew different. She was the reason he smiled, not the clerk. He quickly made his way to their room, finding her already showered and dressed, finishing her hair and makeup in the dressing area.

"Hey Bones," he smiled as he gathered his clothes. "Sorry I'm back late. Got a little turned around. Forgot I was in a new city."

He moved into the bathroom, setting his things on the shelf, stripping off his sweaty t-shirt as he turned on the water. She glanced at his reflection in the mirror, watching the way the lean muscles moved beneath the skin. She felt herself blush a bit, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Sorry I didn't wake you," she heard him call as he started the shower, the door closing at some point during his undressing. She looked at herself in the mirror, tightening her ponytail as she watched the color return to her cheeks.

"That's fine, Booth. I needed the rest." She moved closer to the door, hearing the water change staccato as he washed. She took a deep breath, willing her face to not flush again at the mental image of his body under the warm spray. She rapped the door once to get his attention.

"Booth? I talked to the the Port Authority liaison while you were out. She'll meet us at the terminal. We need to leave in fifteen minutes. I called down to the front desk clerk and she said it's a little under a mile walk to the port and - with the streets closing for the annual race - she assured me it would be more beneficial to us to walk instead of trying to use our vehicle." She set her messenger bag on the bed, checking to make sure she had all items she needed in order to effectively examine the crime scene.

"No problem, Bren!" He blanched at his response, his mouth momentarily forgetting to censor the thoughts still swirling through his mind. _God, I hope she didn't hear me call her that! Nice going, dumbass!_ He dropped his head beneath the warm spray, silently praying that somehow she hadn't heard him this time.

She stood for a moment, unsure of what to make of the slip. _Why did he call me Bren instead of Bones? He always calls me Bones. Bren is what he called me when we were married. I mean, when he _thought _we were married, in his coma dream. Surely he hasn't been thinking about that again, right? It doesn't mean anything. It was just a slip. An error. An accident. It didn't mean anything. Did it?_

Hearing the sound of the shower cut off, she quickly finished organizing her bag, throwing it over her shoulder and heading downstairs.

* * *

_There are times when saying the wrong name is just awful - and this is one of those times. So what now? They still have that pesky crime scene to visit and a body to identify. And now all these pesky feelings to contend with as well? Please take a moment to let me know what you're feeling - I'd love to hear from you!_


	5. Mol Earnest

**A/N: Hi and hello! Once again I must apologize for the delay in updating but Life is, unfortunately, rather demanding from time to time. *sigh* But it's here now, yes? And that's the important part ;)  
**

**As always THANK YOU SO MUCH for taking the time to read, review, favorite, and follow. I'm honored. Truly. And a huge thank you to T for her input and insight. *hug*  
**

**Disclaimer: If Bones were mine, B&B would've gotten together in season 2 or 3 and the show would have to be moved to HBO ;) (In other words, they aren't mine)**

The Happening in the Holy City

Chapter 5: Mol Earnest

She had been very quiet since he started the shower, but when he saw her reading the interns' papers when he joined her downstairs, he thought maybe she hadn't heard his slip earlier. He figured her silence was due to studying the theses she had in front of her instead.

She had been holding the papers for some time while waiting on him to finish changing, but her thoughts had been focused solely on the fact that he had called her _Bren _instead of _Bones _during their earlier conversation.

_Why did Booth call me Bren? He said it once after I returned from Guatemala, but he was still recovering from his surgery then. It's quite understandable that he may make a mistake during his extended recovery period. That was before we talked about the dream and my book with Sweets; before we agreed his dream was nothing more than his mind using everyday acquaintances in place of fictional characters I created and read to him. Was he thinking about his coma dream while he went running this morning? Why would he be thinking about the dream? We agreed. We agreed the coma dream was simply a mistake! Perhaps the tumor has returned and that's why he was thinking about the dream he had after his surgery? Maybe Jurzik was wrong about the tumor not returning? It is possible; not everyone with a doctorate is as thorough as I am in their work. What if he did make a mistake and Booth's tumor has returned? I'm sure Booth would have told me about it, especially by now. We've had several cases, back to back but he would have mentioned it. I'm sure of it._

From both his earlier run and the police officers stationed on nearly every corner, Booth knew several streets were closed or blocked in anticipation of the annual race. When Brennan informed him that the best course of action would be to walk to the Columbus Street Terminal nearly a mile north of the hotel, he was relieved.

"Hey Bones," he said, trying to act casual as they made their way down the already crowded street. "Anything wrong?" _She's been kinda distant this morning. She's had a death grip on those papers of hers all morning, too. Maybe she's just really focused on her interns, but my gut says something's wrong. I hate how weird things have been between us lately. _

"I'm fine, Booth," she said as she pushed the bangs away from her eyes. "Just trying to get through these papers. I'm finding several of my interns are not where they should be this late in their studies. It's causing me anxiety, to be honest. I'm unsure if I'm actually helping them or if my rigid teaching schedule is hindering some of them. They are not all as bright as Mr. Bray or as eager to learn as Dr. Edison."

He glanced at her, his brow furrowed in question. "You sure, Bones? You've been really quiet this morning. You can tell me if there's something bother you, y'know." They wound their way through various streets and alleyways with only the sounds of her GPS device guiding them towards the terminal. Booth occasionally withdrew the small slip of paper the desk clerk had scribbled her own set of directions on for the pair, but Brennan had insisted on using the GPS and he knew arguing with her would prove a pointless action. And he didn't want to do anything to worsen the situation between them. A certain tension still hovered in the air between them and, although he knew the reasons why he was tense and awkward around her, it bothered him deeply that she wasn't sharing with him what was going on with her.

"I'm okay, Booth. Really." He knew it was a lie; not only because there was definitely something bothering her, but because it had taken several minutes before she responded to him.

They arrived at the guard house, giving the uniformed officer their names while Booth displayed his badge and introduced his partner. The young man eyed Dr. Brennan appreciatively, causing Booth to step forward a bit, somewhat blocking his view of the anthropologist. He puffed his chest out just enough to intimidate the kid as he asked - in his best "official FBI voice" - about the crime scene. The officer directed the partners through the gate, providing them a map with the crudely highlighted route they should follow in order to find the appropriate crate.

They found a small division of local police surrounding a set of shipping containers on the eastern side of the port, nearest the river. She watched a cargo ship pull slowly from the dock, the name _DUBAI EXPRESS_ proudly displayed on its hull, a tugboat pushing it in the direction of open water. Booth walked behind her, note cards and pen in hand, ready to take notes on whatever she found with the remains.

"Dr. Brennan? Agent Booth?" The brunette woman approached them quickly, her hand extended in greeting. "I'm Lieutenant Bridgette Rivers, Port Authority Police. Thank you for coming down so quickly." Booth reached to shake her hand while Brennan nodded at her presence, focused more on the waiting remains than on making acquaintance with the Ports Authority liaison. She noticed during their earlier conversation that Ms. Rivers enjoyed talking and seemed to enjoy conversation of a more personal nature rather than a professional one. Brennan, naturally, preferred the professional over the personal and stated as much to the lieutenant, causing their conversation to end rather abruptly.

"Where are the remains?" Brennan pulled a pair of black gloves from her bag, slipping them quickly on her hands as she looked around the woman to where the small cluster of officers stood taking pictures and notes of what she assumed to be the body. Lieutenant Rivers watched the anthropologist for a moment, unsure of what to make of her cold, distant behavior before returning her attention to the man in front of her.

"Oh, they're over there, inside the green container," she said as she waved her hand in the crate's general direction. "I'm told there isn't much left to see, really. The guys say it's just a skeleton now," she smiled at Booth, a bright wide smile that implied her interest in him. He returned a grin, keeping his main focus on Brennan who was quickly making her way towards the body. Although they had a case to solve, he still wasn't sure what was happening with his partner and her unusual behavior tugged at his investigative instinct. And at his heart. He turned his attention towards the detective, while still keeping an eye on his partner as she began doling out orders and tasks to the officers she found standing around. He knew from experience the young technicians were in for a rough ride, given Brennan's rigid attention to detail. _I don't envy them, that's for sure._

"So, Lieutenant Rivers," he started, clicking his pen and thumbing his notecards in order to take down the information he knew she would be able to provide. "How did you find the victim here?" They walked together the few short steps to the outside of the container.

"I prefer Bridgette, actually, Agent Booth. Of B for short, if you prefer." He saw Brennan's posture tense just a bit at the detective's response. "According to the port foreman, the crate arrived yesterday afternoon on the Panamanian cargo ship _MOL EARNEST_. The captain of the ship reported that all delivered cargo was picked up in Shanghai, China nearly five weeks ago."

"So it's probably just some poor soul trying to find his way into the States? Poor guy didn't realize how tough traveling by ship would be, I guess." Booth wrote the ideas on his card as Lt. Rivers nodded along with his theory.

"Actually, Booth, I don't believe your hypothesis is correct," Brennan said, breaking into their conversation. "The opening of the sacrum suggests a female, one who has given birth. The bones appear to be clean and dry with no lingering insect activity, although there are a few dead insects lying around the remains. There's very little blood and what is left has dried, of course. There's no tissue left on the bones and the connective tissue is beginning to degrade, suggesting the remains have been in the container for much longer than five weeks." Brennan rattled through her findings in true fashion, not pausing to allow Booth time to write everything down.

Over the years he had developed his own shorthand so he could easily keep up with her observations of whatever remains they were examining. He'd learned early on that taking the time to write full words meant missing important details. He stood at the ready, awaiting further information from his partner while Bridgette stood beside him, her arms folded across her chest, her mouth slightly open in amazement at the level of detail Brennan provided after viewing the skeleton only a few minutes. She turned to Booth, a look of astonishment and query on her face.

"Yup!" he said, clapping his hands together at his partner. "_That's_ why Bones is Bones!" He chuckled, turning his attention back to his partner and the remains. Brennan was studying the skull, noticing a red stain at the base.

"Of course it's too early to tell, but it appears from the staining on the occipital bone," she said, pointing a gloved finger at the back of the skull, turning it for the two detectives to view, a faint tinge of green crossed Rivers's features that gave Brennan a small thrill of joy. "It appears the skull struck something hard while the victim was still alive, causing the hemorrhagic staining here. See?" She pointed again to the inside of the skull.

Booth quickly scribbled the information as Lt. Rivers stood watching. "So what you're saying is that this person was murdered then?" she asked.

"Not necessarily," she said confidently. While she wasn't one to make intuitive leaps about events or people, Brennan had decided upon meeting Bridgette that she didn't like her. _Of course, it could be because she's interested in Booth and since you're interested in Booth you see her as a threat._

_No! That's not it at all_, she fought back._ I'm _not _interested in Booth!_

"The staining only proves the victim was alive when she came into contact with whatever object caused the fracture that runs along the lamboid suture," Brennan said, returning the remains to the position in which they had been found. "The fracture could have caused a major hemorrhage within the skull with possible trauma to the brain itself. Fragments from the skull could have pierced the brain, causing instantaneous death. However, we won't know for sure until the skeleton can be examined more closely. Hodgins will need to swab the bones for particulates and Mr. Bray will need to clean the bones in order to identify specific cause of death. Also, we'll need to gather samples of the dried tissue and blood near the remains. And any insects or other particulates found inside the crate will also be of value to Dr. Hodgins, I'm sure." She turned her attention to Booth. "I'll let Cam know everything is on its way."

"You got it, Bones!" he said as he watched her walk away. He motioned for the officers of the Crime Scene Unit to gather everything and have it sent to the Jeffersonian, turning to walk with Lt. Rivers to a nearby office building.

"You okay there, Rivers?" he asked. She had been quiet since Brennan's detailed explanation of the injuries to the skeleton, particularly the skull. _Slick, Bones! I bet you did that just to watch her squirm. _He smiled at the thought.

"I'm fine, Agent Booth. And please, call me Bridgette. I'm just not used to seeing or hearing … _things _… like that." She smiled weakly.

"Ah, I see. Don't sweat it. These kinds of crimes are what Bones and I specialize in. I would imagine working with the Ports Authority, the worst dead anything you've seen is, what? A crab?" He laughed a little, trying to lighten her mood.

"A dolphin, actually. Hit by one of the ships coming in one evening. But I know what you're saying." He opened the door to the small brick building, allowing her to enter ahead of him. Brennan stood nearby, her call to the Jeffersonian Institute having just ended. He held the door for her as she joined them inside, his hand hovering over the small of her back, ushering her inside.

"What's the kid's name that found the remains?" he asked as they joined the Lieutenant in the lobby. Brennan stood beside him, her arms folded across her chest, her bag resting casually against her hip. Bridgette eyed her for a moment, noting her defensive posture, but ignoring her still the same.

"James Sullivan," she said turning towards Booth. "He's one of the dock workers here at Columbus. Young guy, pretty green. The _EARNEST_'s manifest showed a container that was not received in Shanghai and subsequently was sent back; this one obviously. He went to retrieve the record once the crane set it down on dock. When he opened her up to check the contents … well, that's when we called you."

Booth nodded at her explanation. His gut told him they weren't going to get anywhere questioning Sullivan, but standard procedure called for them to gain any information they could from him.

The three headed upstairs to the small office that had been transformed into a makeshift interrogation room. Booth opened the door, allowing Bridgette to enter first, noticing Brennan lingered behind him. He turned to her, silently questioning her delay.

"Bones? You coming?" he asked, pushing the door closed a little so their conversation could not be heard. She hadn't spoken since hanging up with the lab and it bothered him. _Plus, she's still upset about something else, too. Come on, Bones. Talk to me!_

"Actually, Booth, I was thinking I would let you and the lieutenant handle the interrogation. They can't send the remains to the Jeffersonian until later this evening and I thought I would go down to the County Coroner's office and see what else I could find on the bones." She spoke quietly, and quickly, which stirred his gut instinct once again. _It's unlike her to not want to be a part of an interrogation._

"Enough, Bones. What the hell is going on here, huh?" He pushed the door closed completely, leading her away from the interrogation room. He stopped when they were in a corner. With a tall plant blocking them from the few people meandering the hallways, they sat on the small metal bench placed against the wall. "You'd rather visit the remains in some basement office than interview our only witness? That's not like you. You hate it when I don't let you in on an interview. Plus you've been really, _really _quiet since we got down here. And I know there's something else going on that you're not telling me because you've had a death grip on those damn papers of yours since the plane! Now tell me, what gives Bones?"

She stood quickly, tossing her bag over her shoulder. He'd struck a nerve immediately and he regretted it in an instant. The last thing he wanted was to upset her even more than she already was. He was concerned, and a little worried, for her. But it was becoming quite apparent that she saw his concern merely as interference.

"I've told you, Booth. I'm fine. And I don't see how my presence in the interview would be of any help to you anyway. I'm sure the lieutenant is quite capable of assisting you. My time would be better spent examining the remains firsthand before they are taken to the lab." She turned to leave, affording him no time to respond. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"I swear, that woman can be so damned frustrating at times," he muttered to himself as he watched her exit the front of the building below him. He sighed heavily as he made his way back to the witness and to Bridgette.

_But I can't help it. No matter how much she gets under my skin sometimes, I still love her,_ he thought. He paused for a moment, the words hitting him all at once. With another sigh, he rolled his neck from side to side, fighting the headache that was creeping in. He turned the knob, pulling the door open roughly as he joined Lt. Rivers and their witness in the small office.

* * *

_Things seem to be heating up, eh? ;) Thank you for taking the time to read. Please take a moment to share your thoughts, good or bad! :) More to come!_


	6. Moment of Resonance

**A/N: Much thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read, review, comment, favorite, and follow this story. You really have no idea how much it means to me that you return time after time.  
**

**And, as always, I am forever indebted to _some1tookmyname_ for her insight and helpful hinting. :)  
**

_**And in honor of the Cooper River Bridge Run this weekend (hells yeah, baby!) ... I present to you the next chapter! :)**_

**Disclaimer: If Bones were mine, B&B would've gotten together in season 2 or 3 and the show would have to be moved to HBO ;) (In other words, they aren't mine)**

The Happening in the Holy City  
Chapter 6: Moment of Resonance

Brennan walked quickly down the stairs and exited the building without looking back at her partner whom was sure was carefully watching her every move. He did that from time to time, something she noticed early on in their working together. She attributed it, at first, to his protective nature. As did he the one time she asked him about it, saying he was "only watching her back".

Over the past four months his watching had increased and, despite her lack of social understanding, something within her knew his watching her was an act of something more than partnership. _At least from his perspective_, the voice chimed in again as she cut across the pier towards the entrance.

She hugged her arms tight around her chest, the cool breeze from the water suddenly chilling her. The wind blew inward, a sign the tide was on its way in. She pulled her phone from her bag, hitting the speed dial for Angela, who answered on the second ring.

"Hey, Sweetie! How are you and Hunky doing down south? Have you run into Rhett and Scarlett yet?"

Brennan wrinkled her forehead. "I don't know what that means, Ange."

"That doesn't surprise me," she said with a knowing smile. No matter how long they were friends, Brennan's lack of pop culture knowledge still never ceased to amaze her. "What's up?"

"I wanted to let you know that I'm on my way to the Coroner's office to perform a cursory examination of the remains we found today. I'll need to see what type of equipment they have here, but I would like to send you photos of the skull so you can begin the facial reconstruction." She sighed heavily, knowing that wasn't the real reason she called Angela. But she was unsure exactly how to approach the subject of her and Booth without fully understanding her own feelings on the matter.

"Sure thing," Angela said. "Just get me whatever you can and I'll get started on it right away. So," she paused, listening to the sounds of the city on the other end of the line. She knew, as only a best friend does, there was another reason for Brennan's call. "Anything else, Sweetie?"

Brennan held the phone tighter against her ear, the events from that morning replaying in her head. She took a deep breath, sighing directly into the phone. Angela laid out on the couch in her office, listening to the silent struggle her friend was enduring.

"Booth called me _Bren _this morning," she blurted out after a minute or two. Angela sat straight up on the couch. She stuttered for a moment trying to gather her thoughts at what Brennan had just said.

"Details, please!" she exclaimed once her mind was joining thoughts together again. She knew of Booth's dream and of how he thought for several days that he and Brennan were married, but he hadn't referred to her as _Bren _since the early days following his coma. Something inside her jumped at the news, hoping and praying that the two had finally come to some sort of an agreement about moving their relationship forward. _Everyone knows they love each other! They just need to admit it to themselves and start making baby Booths already!_

She listened closely as Brennan relayed the events of the day before: the reservations mix up with the flight, at the car rental agency as well as at the hotel; the details of hers and Booth's frustration, even the conversation she had with her publicist. Angela laughed to herself at how Brennan refused to summarize, instead choosing to lay out every action and detail since their arrival in Charleston. Her mind began to wander a bit, not purposely ignoring her friend, but anxious nonetheless to get to what she could only hope would be the sparky bits of the story. She took notice immediately when Brennan mentioned that there was only a single hotel room and the two of them had been left no choice other than to share not only the same room but the same bed as well.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" she interrupted. "What happened between you and Booth in that bed?" She unconsciously scooted towards the edge of the couch in anticipation.

Brennan rolled her eyes a bit at her friend's reaction. She knew that those details were what Angela was metaphorically salivating for, but a small part of her had hoped Angela wouldn't follow the trail. She ignored the voice reminding her one of the main reasons she called in the first place was for her friend's advice. _So much for wishful thinking_, she thought before turning her attention back to Angela.

"Nothing happened, Ange," she said.

There was a tinge of irritation in her voice, but Angela ignored it and pressed her friend to continue.

"We arrived at the room and unpacked. Booth offered to sleep on the small couch downstairs - I suppose to afford me privacy - but I insisted he sleep in the bed instead. To save his back, naturally." She paused for a moment, catching her breath

Angela responded with a _Mm-hmm_, causing Brennan to think she didn't believe her. "It's true, Ange! Nothing happened."

"I know, sweetie, I know," she laughed. "But you have to admit - you and Booth, in a room together, sharing the same bed? It sounds a little _too good to be true_, if you know what I mean. What happened next? What made Booth call you _Bren_?"

"I don't know, Ange. We went to sleep. It was very late and when we woke up this morning his arms were around me. He went for a jog while I got ready. When he returned, we were discussing the case and when he went to take a shower I informed him that we had only fifteen minutes before leaving and when he was responding he called me _Bren_."

Angela perked up again at hearing her friend admit to waking up in her partner's arms, a smile lighting her face instantly. She was still concerned that Brennan didn't see any significance in the action itself. "Brennan, sweetie," she said after a minute. She kept her voice even, wanting to help her friend deal with her feelings but afraid of spooking her as well. "You woke up in his arms? He was holding you? And you wonder why he called you _Bren_?"

Brennan sighed, simultaneously afraid of and appreciating Angela for pulling these answers from her. "Yes, we woke up in the spooning position. I wasn't hugging him, but he had his arm around me. I know it didn't mean anything, Ange. It was probably just because he's used to sleeping alone. It's natural to gravitate towards another person in bed with you." _Liar! Liar! Slacks on fire__!_ her mind screamed.

_I am not a liar! It has been known to happen. I'm quite sure that's why Booth was holding me this morning._

_But what about his {ahem} physical reaction to holding you, hmm? What do you have to say about that, Miss Genius?_

_There _was _no reaction to our bodies being close to one another. It was simply a normal physiological morning response in a healthy, adult male. For Booth to wake up with an erection is normal for a man of his stamina and age. It had nothing to do with me._

_Liar! Liar!_

She silenced the voices, trying to focus on what her friend was saying. "... psychology, logic and reasoning - they aren't going to work here, Sweetie. We _all _know you and Booth belong together. And _I _know that _he _realized that when he woke up from that coma dream. He's just afraid of pushing you into something you're not ready for, I think. I want _you _to stop being afraid of admitting that you know it, too. Then we can _all _be happy. But more importantly, _you _and _Booth _can be happy. _Together_."

She sat there holding her breath, waiting on Brennan to respond to her straightforward reply. She loved Brennan like the sister she never had and she wanted to see her happy. _She'd be happy with Booth, I know it. She just needs a swift kick in the right direction!_

"Thanks Angela. I'll get the cranial photos to you as soon as I can," Brennan said, hanging up on her friend as she made her way into the county morgue.

* * *

He stood watching her again. He loved watching her when she was engrossed in her work, her concentration stone solid. Her dedication to the nameless, faceless victims of their work always touched his heart in a special way.

He'd come to the morgue following the interrogation with Lt. Rivers. Unfortunately they had garnered no information from Mr. Sullivan regarding the body. He had, however, been able to provide them the details of the container and the route in which it had traveled between ports. Booth noted this information, knowing it would be helpful in determining time of death. He'd sent the information to Brennan after she didn't respond to his calls or text.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he watched her take notes on one of the ribs. He glanced at the screen; a message from Cam. He read through the text, noting that the information she sent lined up exactly with what they had learned from talking with James earlier. _If Cam has that info, then Bones must've sent it to her. So she saw my text but she didn't respond. What's wrong__,__ Bones? Talk to me!_ He replaced the phone in his pocket as he entered the autopsy bay his partner was working in. Their eyes met briefly and for a moment he could see something akin to anger in her eyes.

"Cam got an ID on the victim," he said, not bothering with any form of greeting. She stayed silent as she continued to catalogue another rib. "Tracy King, a local prostitute who's been missing for three weeks. Her roommate reported her missing after she didn't come home from work one morning. Police reports list her street name as "Lacy Tracy". I thought maybe you'd like to come with me to question the roommate."

He waited, watching her replace the rib on the stainless steel table.

"Sure." She threw her apron and gloves in the nearest trashbin, gathered her notebook and recorder into her bag and walked quickly past Booth.

"Oh, yeah," he muttered. "Something's definitely wrong." He shoved his hands in his pockets as he followed her out of the morgue.

* * *

_Thank you for reading! As always, I live for your feedback. Please take a moment to comment or review :)_


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